


Nice To Meet You

by Davechicken



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: 'Deleted scene', F/M, In-movie tag, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: In which, Jyn and Cassian actually talk.





	

It takes time to assemble the major players, apparently. Time that they don’t really have. They need them here to decide what to do with their intelligence, so she’s stuck here, in limbo. Jyn doesn’t really know anyone on the base (she barely remembers most of their names), and the two Guardians are off somewhere, whilst Bodhi is pumped for information. 

She’s angry. She’s angry, because her father’s just died. She’s _more_ angry that he died because of the Rebellion’s trigger-happy pilots, and she is _not_ going to let his death be in vain. 

No, not just his death. Decades of living a lie, in the hope of throwing a pebble downstream. A pebble she can run with, and slingshot back into the Empire’s unblinking eye.

She’s angry with Cassian, and she sees his droid lingering with intent off to one side, so that’s where she goes.

“Cassian does not wish to talk with you, Jyn Erso.”  


“I bet he doesn’t.”  


“It would be remiss of me to allow it.”  


“I didn’t ask your permission,” she says, still not stopping her forward momentum.  


“Oh well, I did try,” comes the resigned (and dry) voice from behind her.   


Jyn does have to wonder who reprogrammed him. They did either a wonderful job, or a terrible one. She can’t quite decide which.

Cassian is in the small room behind, which looks like it’s a locker room for pilots and soldiers. There’s a long line of dented upright lockers, and hooks on the opposite wall for undressing. No one else is here, and he’s holding his weapon (still in the sniper configuration), tossing it from hand to hand. The butt sits on the bench, the muzzle to the ceiling. Back and forth, back and forth, like some domesticated pet that’s too caged to act naturally. 

He doesn’t move to acknowledge her, but she somehow knows he knows.

“It wasn’t just shock,” she leads with.  


“Maybe not.”  


“You _did_ go out there to kill him.”  


“And I have gone out to kill a good many men and women. Not often have I not.”  


He’d lied. He’d lied to her, like Saw had. He’d lied to her, like her father had. Always, men lied to her. To _protect_ her, they said. To _keep her safe_. But had it? She’d spent her life either in wars, or in prisons, or watching her father die. How safe had she been?

(And yet, Cassian _had_ come back for her. Her father _did_ send her that message. Saw... _did_ let them go.)

“Why didn’t you?” Jyn asks.  


He looks over his shoulder, then. “I believed you. I believed him, the pilot. Your father was not the danger we thought he was. It was never about him being good, or bad...”

“You thought you needed to, to stop the weapon.”  


“But they blew up Jedha, so what use was killing him now? And he was _not_ in their favour. He no longer was a threat.”  


She licks her lips, thinking. She understands this, in a way. Even if it hurts, because it’s - it _was_ \- her **father**. She understands it. 

“Jyn... we do these things because someone must. Someone must... for everyone else. I follow orders, yes, but if I _know_ they are wrong...”  


“It was wrong of me to call you a Stormtrooper.”  


“No: it was right. If I do not think for myself, sometime, then I am. But if I think, and I agree, then I am not. This time, I did not agree.”

She watches as he slips the safety on (it was off all this time?) and puts the sniper rifle down. His hands pull it out of the configuration, and she feels the death disassembled from the moment. Back to self-defence. Back to normal.

“Don’t lie to me again,” she demands. “No matter what it is. Don’t lie to me. I understand more than you might think.”  


“You walked away from this fight...”  


“No.” A shake of her head. “Saw threw me to the wilds. My father... was a liability, and that’s when I realised the Rebellion didn’t want _me_.”  


“He... what?”  


“That’s what he said. They wanted to use me as a bargaining chip, to blackmail my father. So he tossed me out on my ear, and left me to fend for myself.”  


He reholsters his weapon, and turns back to his locker, head bowed. “I am sorry. I... should not have assumed.”

“I didn’t correct you.”  


There’s a moment’s pause, and then Cassian turns. She’s surprised by his salute, which then turns into the offer of a handshake. “Captain Cassian Andor. I have been in this fight almost my whole life. It is an honour to meet you.”

She smiles. Salutes, then takes his hand. A tight shake. “Jyn Erso. No rank. When I started fighting, there _wasn’t_ a Rebellion. Not really. I took a hiatus, but it was partially inflicted upon me. I’m back in this fight, and I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

“It is an honour to serve with you,” he says. “I promise - for what the word of a spy is worth - to never lie to you again.”  


“Is that a lie right there?”  


“You’ll never know,” he replies, with a twinkle in his eyes.  


Still. They understand one another, now. And that is worth everything.

Now trust can go both ways.


End file.
